The Rat in the Hat
by HairyOtter14
Summary: Every night he hopes to escape his life of imprisonment, but he is unable to find a way out. One day a freak accident and a half-baked plot gives him a shot at the freedom he craves. Follow Peter Pettigrew as he helps Ron navigate classes, exams, and romance while buying time for a window to find the Dark Lord. Rated T for strong language. Tags: Parody, Humor, Romance, AU


Every night he hopes to escape his life of imprisonment, but he is unable to find a way out. That is until one day, a freak accident and a half-baked plot gives him a shot at the freedom he so desperately craves. Follow Peter Pettigrew as he helps Ron navigate classes, exams, and romance while buying time for a window to find the Dark Lord.

Tags: Parody, Humor, Romance, AU

A/N: In case anyone finds this very embarrassing story, know that it was for a podcast I love called Fanatical Fics and Where to Find Them. If you like fanfiction and ridiculous stories like the one below, check them out. I do not own any of the characters or ideas in this story.

The Rat in the Hat

His small claws softly clicked on the stone floor of the boy's dormitory as he padded back and forth in the pale moonlight that shone through the window. It seemed this would be yet another restless night. Peter had not stopped seething about his current predicament for the last 13 years. There was no describing the humiliation of being traded around like a playing card between a clan of ugly, Muggle-loving redheads, especially when those torturous twins would try their enchanted candies on him. He shuddered at the memory of a particularly nasty treat that had covered him in boils. However, the part he hated most was being trapped in a room night after night with five teenage boys. Peter looked longingly at the door, peering up to the impossibly high doorknob. If only he could briefly turn back into a man… "No," he thought, "the risk is too great." Peter's sigh was uttered as a pathetic squeak as he headed back towards Ron's bed. He knew that the only way he would ever be able to come out of hiding was to find the Dark Lord. His Lord's protection would surely be awarded if Peter managed to bring back the serpentine sorcerer. This thought had occurred to him previously, but it had always been a fruitless pursuit. He had tried several times before to escape, but a certain sweaty-palmed ginger managed to thwart his efforts in some way or another. It's difficult to track down the world's most powerful wizard when you can't even open a door.

Ron awoke late the next morning, far after the other boys had made their way down to breakfast. He yawned loudly, then lazily swung his feet off his bed to put on his slippers. As he slid on his right shoe, he felt a sickening squelch beneath his heel. Ron roared with rage and shouted "SCABBERS, YOU BLOODY STUPID RAT! THAT'S THE FIFTH TIME THIS MONTH!" Peter squeaked copiously in what would have been cruel laughter. He had to find a silver lining in living as a rat, and shitting on Ron's personal belongings had been his favorite way to terrorize the oaf as of late. Ron heard the squeaking coming from the window sill and reached out to snatch the rodent. Upon seeing an enormous hand reaching for him, Peter panicked and leapt onto Ron's stomach, clinging by the loose threads of the pajama top. His claws nicked his skin, causing an already furious Ron to try to grab the rat off his person. Peter scurried around Ron's body rapidly, which made him hit himself every time he missed the furry creature. Peter's frenzied state did not allow him to think clearly, and instead of running down Ron's leg to escape the blows, he ran up his back until he was scrabbling up to the top of Ron's head. Ron flailed in pain as his rat's sharp claws gouged his freckled skin. His shouted swears were getting more and more obscene with each blundering attempt to remove him. Peter knew he was going to fall from a height that would surely crush him. Desperately, he gripped two tiny fistfuls of ginger hair in his paws, holding on for dear life.

However, something incredibly strange happened. Ron had ceased flailing. His hands were frozen in mid air, clenched into fists exactly like those Peter was making. Peter and Ron both stared perplexedly as Ron's appendages dropped with the slackening of Peter's grip. Tentatively, Peter grabbed another fiery lock and raised it. Ron's hand came up to his face. Unable to help himself, Peter pulled the hair back abruptly and the loud smack of Ron slapping his own face sent him into another laughing fit. Ron took advantage of the rat's distracted state and pulled him off the top of his head. "How in the BLOODY HELL are you doing that?" he yelled. Peter shrugged, forgetting that he was supposed to be a rat and that lifting his front legs above his head sassily was not something that normal rats do. Ron nearly dropped him in surprise. "Do… do you understand me? Literally nothing that just happened has made _any_ sense. Maybe I should just go back to bed…" Peter squealed in protest. He didn't understand how one could control a person just by pulling on their hair. Perhaps he was channeling dark magic somehow? Regardless, that didn't change the fact that he had the perfect opportunity to get to the Dark Lord, and he wasn't going to let this idiot mess it up for him again. Thinking on his tiny feet, Peter cheeped and gestured to a book on Ron's trunk. Skeptically, Ron walked over to it and picked up his Potions book. "What do you want with this? How do you even know what this is? You're a rat for God's sake." Peter shook his head in exasperation. He tapped the word "potions" repeatedly, then gestured to Ron's head, and lastly to himself. Ron looked quizzically at the rat. "What are you on about?" Through a painstaking process of crude diagrams and pantomime, Peter had finally gotten his message across. "Ohhhhh, you want to help me with my Potions," Ron exclaimed. "Finally, you daft fool," Peter thought. "But… why?" Ron asked. Peter hoped that a shrug would be enough for the simple beast. He wasn't about to reveal his plan to escape, especially since it would likely take well over an hour at this rate. Ron shrugged back. "All right, what the hell. Might as well let you try. Lord knows I'm no good at Potions." After years of watching the Weasley boy doing schoolwork, Peter was inclined to agree. Finally, he had a chance at freedom from this waking nightmare. Peter rubbed his tiny little rat paws in an evil manner. He tried to cackle maniacally, but all that comes out were adorable squeaks that greatly undercut his attempt at villainy.

*Flash to montage of Peter and Ron practicing making Potions. Ron's sleeve catches fire, Peter bites his hand to stop him from putting in an ingredient that would fill the room with lethal smoke, etc.*

TWO WEEKS LATER

Ron smacked his forehead in frustration. "We've been practicing for ages, but we never thought about the actual logistics of this. How am I supposed to bring you to my Potions exam? Aren't people going to think I'm mental carrying my pet around on my head?" Peter thought for a moment, stroking his whiskers thoughtfully with one paw. Then it hit him. He used Ron's hands once again to rummage to the bottom of the trunk. He still didn't quite have the hang of this using-a-person-as-a-puppet thing, so most of Ron's things were clumsily tossed out onto the floor. Peter ignored Ron's whining and found what he was looking for. An old, black hat sat in Ron's hands for the first time since he had thrown it in his trunk on the second day of school. "You're _barking_ if you think I'm going to wear this rubbish. I don't even know why they were on our school list to begin with. No one wears these stupid things!" His protestations fell on deaf ears. It looked as though Ron was fighting with his own limbs as Peter struggled to put the hat onto Ron's head. Eventually, the rat won the tug of war and pulled the pointed black cap on more roughly than was necessary. "Little git," Ron muttered under his breath. Sighing resignedly, Ron got up and left for the Great Hall, shaking his head in deep shame as he passed his reflection.

"Where is Ron?" Hermione said worriedly. "Even for him, this is far too late to be getting up." Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione, you know Ron would never miss breakfast. He'll be here any minute I'm sure." Hermione looked skeptical. "But what if he's not feeling well? What if he -" she trailed off and her eyes widened. Harry followed her gaze and dropped his fork with a clatter. Many other heads turned to stare at the foot-tall pointed hat that sat atop the beet-red Weasley, who shuffled in a hurry to his seat. Ron thanked whatever being that allowed Fred and George to be nowhere in sight - they would never let him live this down. Trying his best to ignore the various whispering, jeering, and wolf-whistles that echoed throughout the room, Ron turned to his friends. "M-morning!" he stammered out in an attempt at a cheery tone. Harry and Hermione looked at Ron's head, then side-eyed to each other, then back at Ron's head. "Um… Ron?" Hermione's voice was oddly strained and she paused a moment before asking, "Why?" Harry snorted and hid his mouth behind his hand as he tried unsuccessfully to cover his widening grin. Hermione broke first and the two of them began cackling at their redheaded friend. Ron endured the derisive laughter for a moment before exclaiming, "All right, that's enough out of you lot! Fred and George charmed me with a bald spot! I can't go around wearing a bloody wig now can I?" Harry wiped the tears from his eyes and said breathlessly, "Honestly mate, it might still be an improvement. That hat is so ridiculous." Hermione rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Come on, it cannot possibly be that bad. You know that I could probably fix it now right?" Harry began to reach to take the hat off while Ron was facing Hermione. Peter had nibbled a peep hole in the ancient fabric of the cap so it was just sheer enough to see what Harry was doing. He had Ron slap Harry's hand away. Ron's face flashed brief surprise at what he'd done, but he quickly regained his composure. "Look, it's not just bald, there's boils and blisters… it's raunchy and I don't want anyone to see it." Hermione gave Ron an admonishing look. "Why don't you go Madam Pomfrey?" Ron nodded. "I will, right after we take our Potions exam. I didn't think I had time to go before, and you know that Snape would mark me down regardless of why I was late." Harry and Hermione had to agree and let the matter drop. Peter sighed inaudibly in relief. He was safe, for now.

The dank smell of the dungeon classroom filled Peter's nose. He scrunched it in disgust. No matter how familiar it was, he had never gotten over the repugnant odor of the Potions room. "Maybe it's Snape that's made it smell that way," he chuckled to himself. Peter wished Snape could feel the glare he gave from his vantage point as the greasy man began lecturing. "Now students," Snape droned, "you will have one hour to make a Draught of Beautification. Many of you are in desperate need of this concoction…" He looked pointedly at the table where Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat and the Slytherins snickered. A smirk crossed his lips as he noticed Ron's hat. "Of course, no potion can fix a person's poor fashion choices, can it Mr. Weasley?" Ron's face reddened as the Slytherins fell into raucous laughter. "May I ask why you've chosen to adorn yourself with a dunce cap? Beyond the obvious. Have you perhaps bribed a cleverer student than yourself to enchant it for your exam?" Ron glared reproachfully at Snape and responded through gritted teeth, "No." Snape looked doubtful and cast a spell to detect any charms upon the cap. "He couldn't afford to bribe somebody because he's so poor!" a drawling voice shouted across the room. "Good one, Malfoy," Harry shouted back. "Would you also like to mention how he has red hair or that my parents are dead? Get some better jokes, you blithering idiot." Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, but thankfully Snape had silenced the room with a booming, "Enough!" Upon finding nothing magical about Ron's hat, Snape grunted and said, "Very well. It is not my responsibility to keep you from making a fool of yourself. That would be a full-time position, anyway. You may leave that revolting headwear on." Intermittent chuckles and whispering could still be heard as the class began their exam. Ron glanced nervously around each time Peter lifted an ingredient to the hat so he could see and smell them. There were certainly odd looks from Hermione and Harry, but they daren't speak for fear of points being deducted. Peter had been a fair hand at Potions, and he still reckoned he was better than the sorry lout he sat atop. Ron had tried several times to grab for something already and had to be directed to the proper ingredients each time.

Forty-five minutes later, Peter had finished making the potion for Ron. He was only an impressive five minutes behind Hermione. Snape drifted over to their table, peering disdainfully at Hermione's cauldron. "All right, Ms. Granger. Please do not bore me by attempting to show off. Just sample some of your potion _quietly_." Unphased by his rude comments, Hermione confidently sipped the Draught of Beautification. Ron beamed affectionately at her. Nothing had changed. Snape grimaced and said, "Pity, you normally create adequate potions. This clearly is a dud, as it has done nothing to improve your... state." Ron quickly stood to face the professor and yelled, "Oi, don't you ever speak to her that way, you vile git!" The collective intake of breath from the students made the room feel void of oxygen. Snape glowered, but his tone remained even as he spoke. "Fifty points from Gryffindor. I can't imagine how horribly wrong your potion turned out if Ms. Granger's was not effective. However, we wouldn't want the Weasleys to churn out another litter if they lost one of their broods. Why don't we have someone even more disposable test out your potion. Neville, come try Mr. Weasley's potion." The anger from the Gryffindors and the smug amusement of the Slytherins were palpable as Neville slunk over to Ron's cauldron. He eyed Ron warily as Snape poured a small amount of the liquid into a cup. Neville grimaced, lifted the cup with a shaking hand, and drank. The room waited with baited breath, staring intently at the nervous boy. Suddenly, Neville's unkempt hair formed into a flawless coiff, his jaw became more angular, and his muscles began to swell. Everyone gawked at the gorgeous man that stood before them, with Harry taking an especially long appraisal of his fit form. Murmurs, giggles, and whistles filled the room that made Neville blush furiously. "I- I take it the p-potion worked then?" he stuttered quietly to his friends. "I'd bloody say it did, mate," Ron laughed, winking at a flustered Harry. "Enough of this tittering schoolgirl nonsense, all of you!" Snape bellowed. A hush fell over the room once more. Satisfied, Snape rounded on Ron. "I know you can't possibly have made this yourself. You can't tell a newt's tail from your own genitals. Who helped you?" he seethed. "I bet it was that filthy little mudblood!" Draco announced loudly from his chair, "Too bad that potion didn't work. I bet she was hoping to finally make _someone_ want her. Bad news, Granger, a potion can't fix a tainted, disgusting-" Draco's rant was interrupted by a wet slap as a newt hit him square in the face. Ron smiled triumphantly at his perfectly-aimed throw. Malfoy's indignant shriek was quickly accompanied by "MY FATHER WILL HAVE YOU KILLED, YOU IMPOVERISHED WEASEL!" Whatever empty threat Malfoy said next was drowned out by the pealing laughter of the Gryffindors and the stifled snorts of some Slytherins. However, Ron's glorious moment soon passed as Snape roughly grabbed his left arm. "You're getting detention for the next week, you insufferable fool. And take off that stupid hat! It's making it even harder to look at you than usual," Snape barked. Peter had been thoroughly enjoying the chaos that his potion had caused, but was ripped from his revelry at the threat of being exposed. Panicking, Peter grabbed a fistful of hair on the right side of Ron's scalp and threw it out in Snape's direction. Ron's fist connected with Snape's hooked nose and sent him stumbling back onto a table. Ron barely heard the cheers and _Holy shit_s from the students, for Peter had him sprinting out of the room.

"What the FUCK is your problem? I just punched a professor! I'm going to be expelled if my mum doesn't kill me first!" Ron shouted. But Peter didn't have time for this clown. He knew Ron would not let him control his body for much longer after that stunt. He had to act fast. Peter did his best to force Ron towards the owlery. It took longer than usual given that Ron was actively fighting his own feet. Finally, they reached Peter's destination. The foul smell of avians crept under the brim of the hat, making Peter queasy. He shook it off, determined to get his letter to the only person who might be able to help him out of his predicament. Grabbing the spare parchment, ink, and quill that Hogwarts left for students in the owlery, Peter had Ron grab the quill in his fist and scrawl:  
_Colin - I'm alive. Living in my rat form. Come to Hogwarts. Rescue me. _

_\- Peter_

Peter's Squib cousin was the only person he could think of that might have a chance of saving him. Ron stared at what he had just written in confusion. "Who the hell is Colin? Nevermind that, your name is Peter? What do you mean rescue you? What the bloody hell is happening?" Even if he could answer Ron, he wouldn't. Peter looked for an envelope, but there were none. Cursing Filch internally, he rolled the note into a scroll and bound it with some twine for parcels. As Peter tried to put the note gingerly in the talons of a barn owl, Ron began to fight against his movements again. "I don't know what you are, but I know you're not Scabbers!" Peter was determined to be freed, struggling desperately to send his letter. "I can't let you contact Colin, whoever that is." Ron resisted with more vigor. "That's not even how you deliver a letter you stupid rat!" Peter pushed Ron's hair forward as hard as he could. The struggle ended with an ear splitting shriek. A very violated and indignant owl did not appreciate where Ron had tried to shove the letter. It began to peck ferociously at every inch of skin it could find. Ron ran out yelling with his arms covering his exposed neck and face.

He sprinted towards Hagrid's hut. He knew Hermione and Harry would be on their way there for their fortnightly visits. Peter had given up trying to control Ron for the time being. He had sent his message, and he was so worn from puppeteering that he could barely move. Panting and out of breath, Ron caught up to his friends on the well-worn path. Harry asked Ron, "Oi, what's happened to you? You look half-mangled and you've been acting so erratically. Don't get me wrong, it was bloody brilliant that you punched Snape! I think Dean is drawing up the plans for a shrine." Hermione nodded in agreement. "It was really impressive," she said, her cheeks flushing at the smile on Ron's face. "But honestly, Ron, just tell us what's going on. Whatever Fred and George did can't have been _that_ bad! We're your friends, we won't laugh at you… this time," she said with an apologetic smile. Ron exhaled slowly. "All right, but you're not going to bloody believe it." Harry and Hermione watched nervously as Ron said, "You better not try to run off you little shite," to his scalp. Peter huffed a defeated sigh. It was too hard to run right now. Besides, these two morons were probably going to think he was crazy anyway. Ron removed his hat and took in the baffled faces of his best friends. Harry began to open his mouth as if to say something, but seemed at a complete loss for words. Hermione stared at the rat for a moment, a rat which seemed to oddly being staring directly back at her. "You know, I thought I'd want to know why you were wearing the hat, but frankly it's raised more questions than it's answered," Hermione said with exasperation. "For starters- " "What the fuck?!" Harry cut her off "How about that 'for starters'? Have you gone completely mental? Mate, why are you carrying your bloody rat 'round on your head? Even Neville isn't _this_ weird!" Harry became temporarily distracted with the image of his now-hunky roommate, but pushed the thoughts off - now wasn't the time. Ron filled the lull left by Harry's fantasizing. "I know how insane this will sound, but hear me out. Scabbers has been helping me with my Potions work! He's the one who was helping me during the exam. We've been practicing together for a couple weeks now." Seeing the concerned looks he was receiving, Ron addressed his comments to the rat. "Go on, show them." Peter rolled his eyes and lazily lifted Ron's arms. The pair gasped simultaneously. Ron seized their stunned silence and continued. "Things have been getting a little out of control though. Sometimes he's been making me do things, like slap my own face or punch Snape. I wish I could take credit for that, but it was this little bugger that hit him. And just now, he had me write a note to some guy named Colin, saying he wanted to be rescued. He signed it Peter… I'm starting to think this isn't actually Scabbers or even a rat." "YOU DON'T SAY?" Hermione blurted out. "What tipped you off, the fact that he knew Potions or that he wrote a letter and didn't sign it 'Scabbers the Rat'? I think we need to tell Dumbledore immediately."

Peter straightened up quickly at hearing the headmaster's name. Would he recognize him upon closer inspection? He couldn't risk it. He knew he had to make a break for it now. Disregarding the risk of smashed organs, Peter prepared to leap off the ginger's head. Just then, a furious screech pierced their ears as a familiar, angry owl swooped down towards Ron's head. The owl made eye contact with Peter, as if it somehow knew he was behind the offending parchment. Peter jumped to escape, but instead landed directly into the owl's vengeful talons. The trio stood with mouths agape as the owl flew far into the distance, the rat's limp form disappearing from view. After a few beats of stunned silence, Ron whispered, "Bloody hell."

ONE YEAR LATER

A chain reaction was set off after the debacle with Scabbers/Peter. After telling Dumbledore about the incident, he had asked Lupin to come to his office and appraise the unsent note they'd retrieved from the owlery. Lupin couldn't believe that Peter was alive, but soon deduced that Peter had faked his death and that he had framed Sirius. Dumbledore used the questionable evidence of the note (and probably a well-placed bribe) to convince Fudge to set Sirius free. Sirius explained what had really happened that night in Godric's Hollow. After some much-needed therapy, Sirius was happily reunited with his longtime lover, Remus. The two immediately took Harry in as their adopted son and had been raising him for the last year. Sirius refused a job as an Auror for the Ministry that had wrongfully imprisoned him for 13 years. Instead, he was living as simple life as a Muggle mechanic who specialized in fixing up motorcycles. Harry saw one his adoptive fathers often, as Lupin was still the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Dumbledore was grateful to finally have a qualified professor in the position. The Potions professor had been replaced by a professor called Horace Slughorn, who had once taught Potions at Hogwarts many years beforehand. Snape had promptly been sacked when several students finally got the courage to tell Professor McGonagall about the horrible verbal abuse they had been enduring from him. She also sagely suggested that Dumbledore hire a counselor to help the students of Hogwarts with their hectic and often traumatic lives.

Ron sat in the Great Hall, surveying the room until his eyes rested on his hand intertwined with Hermione's. He smiled and gently rubbed the back of it with his thumb affectionately. She grinned back and rested her head on his shoulder. It was the end-of-the-year feast, and it was even more packed than usual this year with the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang visiting. Harry waved at Cho and Cedric, who were eating happily together. Cedric always had a grin on his face ever since he won the Triwizard tournament for Hogwarts. He had become his house's hero for bringing Hufflepuff the glory that it so rarely saw. Harry leaned over to Ron and Hermione, "I'm glad that Cho is happy. I wonder if I'd still have a crush on her if- " A playful jab from Neville landed on Harry's arm. "I heard that, you git. Should I be worried you're going to leave me for Cho?" Harry looked at Neville's inexplicably hot face. Madam Pomfrey had no clue why the potion wouldn't wear off, but Neville had protested greatly when she'd offered to try and reverse it. Harry gave Neville a quick peck on the cheek and whispered "Never," into his ear. They both chuckled, then Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione. "You two are still going to come visit me at home this summer, right?" The two smiled at Harry's bright tone. He'd tried to sound casual, but they could tell how overjoyed he was to invite them to the only place he had ever truly called home.

Ron nodded at Harry. "We wouldn't miss it for the world, mate. Maybe Lupin will help us with the homework he assigned over holiday." Hermione shook her head dubiously. "You know he's prefers us learning for ourselves. We're meant to be prepared for any dangerous situation, remember?" Ron rolled his eyes. "What dangerous situation? The last dangerous situation any of us were in was when Harry was fighting a bloody basilisk, and that was only because of You-Know-Who! Haven't had a whiff of him since, have we?" A momentary hush graced the group as they all thought back on the horrific experience. Harry's breathing began to come with increasing difficulty until he remembered what the school counselor said; "When you start to panic, close your eyes. Breathe in for eight seconds, hold it for five, and exhale for ten. Keep repeating this and think of a place where you feel safe." Harry let out a more stabilized breath at the count of ten. His heart rate slowed to a steady pace and he opened his eyes. Harry staved off Ron's imminent apology by saying, "It's okay. It's getting better every day. Especially since you're right. We haven't heard anything about Voldemort since then. Even Dumbledore seems to have relaxed lately." Ron winced at the sound of the dark wizard's name and pushed to change the subject. "I couldn't agree more, there's nothing to worry about. Anyway, I can't wait to visit you again, Harry. Sirius promised to let me ride one of his bikes! I'll be bragging to Dad about it for at least a month." Harry allowed his mind to wander from the ensuing bickering about safety between Ron and Hermione. Where had Voldemort gone? He usually showed up around this time of year to terrorize Harry, but he hadn't been seen since the incident with Quirrell. Perhaps he truly was gone. Harry was brought back to reality by a gentle squeeze of the hand from Neville. "You okay?" he whispered. Harry smiled at him. "Better than ever."

Somewhere deep in a remote forest of Albania, a pathetic remainder of an all-powerful wizard slithered painfully through the detritus that littered the ground. The rain was falling fast and hard, but it was difficult to escape the large droplets. His organs were failing him. Each breath was agony. Just his luck, Voldemort thought, that this last snake he had attached his soul to was already dying. He finally escaped the cascade and curled his decaying body beneath a tree. "This will not be the end of the Dark Lord. One of my disciples will surely come to find me," he thought. Though Voldemort told himself this, he knew it was too late. He knew he had been betrayed by those wretched mortals that dared to call themselves his Death Eaters. Not Bellatrix, not Lucius, hell, not even sniveling Peter had come to find their master. Furious and alone, Voldemort's breath became ragged and shallow until it came no more. There, under the looming branches of an elder tree, the largest threat to wizards and Muggles alike lay dead. Nothing more than a hollow husk without the people he had so clearly relied on.


End file.
